


Flintlock

by Pteropoda (SilentP)



Series: Fic Exchanges! [8]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: First Meeting, G1 worldbuilding, Gen, Other, Pre-Relationship, prewar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 15:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11785638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentP/pseuds/Pteropoda
Summary: Shockwave joins the Decepticons, and in doing so sets a match to the gunpowder of the revolution.





	Flintlock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zekkass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/gifts).



> Written as a part of the summer gift exchange for Zekkass! The request called for lots of G1 worldbuilding, and some stuff about gunformers. I didn't get as much porn or as much handling of gunformers, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Also the trio ended up... barely subliminal.

There were rumors in the underground.

Megatron was not in the habit of listening to rumors. Unsubstantiated, frivolous things—he needed only listen to the things the upper echelons said about himself to remember that the most ridiculous things spring from the brain modules of the weak, the rich, the fanciful. He much preferred to make the judgements for himself

However, when it was Soundwave bringing those rumors to his attention, Megatron found that he could afford to give them more consideration, even skeptically. Soundwave was a master of finding the threads of truth in among the rust.

This one, however, had Megatron looking askance at Soundwave. “You understand,” he said, tapping at the arm of his chair, “how incredibly unlikely that is.” ‘

“Probability: understood.” Soundwave stood with his arms crossed over his chestplate, confident in his analysis even in the face of Megatron’s look of intense skepticism. “Information: nevertheless correct.”

“Hmm.” Megatron leaned back in his seat, still tapping idly at the arm of his chair as he considered Soundwave, and the dilapidated room.

Their latest hideout, hidden in the buried remains of some forgotten suburb to some old, minor city-state, had been crumbling even before Megatron was forged. It made for a grim hiding place and a poor home for any number of mechs for any length of time. Megatron chafed at using it, even though he knew everything that made it a poor home in also made it an ideal hideout.   

If Soundwave’s information was true, then they weren’t the only unusual ones hiding out in the underground ruins.

“Scout him out for me,” Megatron ordered. “If there is another gunformer down here, I want to find them.”

Soundwave nodded, but hesitated. “Query,” he said, his helm tilted even though his vocal synthesizer made his question sound more like a statement, “what do you intend to do after finding them?”

“That,” Megatron rumbled, “depends entirely on them.”

\--

The underground was a terrible maze of collapsed rooms and hallways, opened both by the destitute inhabitants and by time. Where a proud city had once stood, now there was only broken plating overlaying the surface, filled with gaps that occasionally allowed rust dust and acid rain to trickle down, wearing holes deeper and deeper into the stacked-up layers of old architecture. It was abandoned by the nearest city-states because the land was too unstable to build over, and the too expensive to bomb out.

Navigating through the passageways was always a risk. No maps were ever made of the place—no high-class city planner would ever risk their plating and equipment coming down this far into the slums—which made finding one’s way through the twisting, unplanned ruins an effort of trial and error. Even worse, the underground had a habit of simply swallowing the unwary whole. Crumbling supports and rusting floors meant any part of the structure could collapse under the weight of an unwary bot.

One could only rely on reports from the beggared residents of the underground. But sharing updates, particularly with threatening strangers like Megatron and his crew, was not something they preferred to do. There were only a few established routes that Megatron and some of his other heavier fighters used.

This—following Soundwave through a particularly twisting and dilapidated series of passages and crumbling rooms, was concerning, no matter how much trust Megatron had in his lieutenant.

Every once in a while, one of Soundwave’s cassettes would flit into view, ducking out of the shadows to return to their master and report their information after scouting ahead. The little mechs were enough to draw Megatron’s attention every time, and make him twitch to transform and simply blast them away. These hallways were filled with scraplets and other such infestations that the cassettes resembled far too closely for his comfort, but they were also vital to the process of getting Megatron and Soundwave through to their goal.

As they waited for the cassettes to check out two branching paths they faced, Megatron turned to Soundwave. “You’re sure the details are confirmed?” Megatron asked, as he leaned against a support pillar. The room they were currently in seemed like it had been some sort of middle-class apartment unit, with rooms that opened onto long hallways that occasionally opened up into long, yawning pits.

Rather than get irritated with answering a question he’d already answered in several forms, Soundwave simply nodded. “Gunformer: reported to be seen five times in the past ten cycles in this region. Significant activity and structural changes reported in the area. Additionally: sources indicate a Plasmafire XK2 missing from Tyger Pax.”

Megatron’s orbital ridges crept up toward his helm. “A… Plasmafire XK2,” he repeated.

Something in Soundwave’s read of him must have given him pause, because the mech glanced toward him. “Information: troubling?” Soundwave asked. His vocal modulations were as steady as ever, as Megatron had come to expect from him, but despite that Megatron thought he could see something to Soundwave’s posture that spoke of hesitance.

“It’s unusual,” Megatron responded. “All of the plasma cannons are… rather rare. They aren’t likely to move from their assigned locations. If this is a plasma cannon, then I’m curious how they got out.” Megatron had never worked with Plasmafires, back when he was still the government’s property. H XK2’s were defensive weaponry, closer to turret systems than handheld weaponry, and rarely favored outside of high-security environments that Megatron hadn’t spent much time in. He’d seen much more use on the front lines.

“This assessment: not noted in official reports,” Soundwave told him. The mech seemed put out by his lack of information, though he stepped forward to continue on his way before long.

“It’s implied by the design type.” Soundwave was giving him a look, inscrutable behind his faceplate and visor. It was enough to make Megatron snicker—he was rarely in a position to have more information on a subject than Soundwave, and while he appreciated the mech’s ability to ferret out nearly anything, he couldn’t deny that having the information for once was rather enjoyable. “Did you not look up the specifications, Soundwave? A heavy turret like that will only move posts on an official rotation schedule. The closest they’re likely to get to the door is acting as a sentry.”

“Information: noted,” Soundwave said. This time, there was definitely a hint of disquiet hid under his vocal modulations. It was enough of a pout to make Megatron chuckle, and give Soundwave a friendly punch in the shoulder.

“And you won’t make the same oversight again. This, Soundwave, is why you’re my lieutenant.”

Soundwave massaged at his pauldron as he nodded. “Understood,” he said, and his vocalization was stronger as he did so.

Then the cassettes came streaming back in, and Soundwave knelt to gather their findings. “Suggestion: the left path,” he said, after they had dashed away once more, disappearing into the shadowy tunnels. And just like that, they were on their way again.

The first sign that they saw was a body. Perhaps not a notable occurrence in the underground, but certainly not one that most of the mechs here tried to think about. It was far easier to simply pretend that the slumped over forms in the corners here and there were mecha resting and conserving energy. Easier that than confronting the fact that the source of all of the roaming empties was right before their optics.

This body, however, was unusual. It wasn’t the frame of the usual down-and-out derelicts that ended up in these spaces. In fact, the paint was clean, the metals of the frame strong, clearly not much touched by starvation and disease the way the worst of the residents were. Not some towers lordling, of course, but a well-built mech, clearly made for hard work. If all of his warriors weren’t accounted for, Megatron might have thought this mech to be one of his own.

The mech was untouched and unscavenged, even in death—surprising, until one noticed the cause of his death, a laser hole burned right through the center of his chassis, leaving nothing but melted edges in its wake.

Soundwave waited patiently, watching, as Megatron poked at the edges of the hole.

“I don’t have any doubts now,” he told Soundwave as he rose from his crouch. “A laser weapon is the only way that a mech could have gotten an opening like that like this in his plating, and if one was making the rounds of the undergrounds, our contacts would have told us already.”

Soundwave nodded in agreement. “Body: arranged,” he said, pointing at the way the frame was propped up against the wall in plain view.

“Agreed,” Megatron said with a frown. “The mech couldn’t have been killed here, either. There are no marks in this room that a laser weapon would leave. He was killed than brought here.”

“Suggestion: body, left as a warning.”

“It seems most likely,” Megatron agreed. “We shall have to proceed with caution.”

Soundwave said nothing in response, but within moments, two of his cassettes who had been out scouting (the dark quadruped and one of the twins, whose names Megatron kept getting mixed up) dashed back into the room, and launched themselves without preamble into Soundwave’s dock, a move that Megatron took to mean that Soundwave agreed with him.

\--

There were no more bodies as they traveled onward, though what they did find was just as strange. There was no overt boundary, but things began to change, the further they traveled. Every so often, there was an area with repairs. Not extensive, but here and there, in the worst places a beam had been replaced, or a gaping hole had been covered over. It was only the worst of the weaknesses, but effort and proper materials had clearly gone into the repairs. It was enough to make Megatron and Soundwave exchange glances.

Soundwave didn’t volunteer any answers, however, which left Megatron to assume that it was simply another oddity of this already odd mission they were on. It would hardly be the last, where this gunformer was concerned.

Most unusual, however, was when their path was stopped short by a door.

It was no old, rusted thing ravaged by the inevitable pains of time. No, this was clearly new, and strong, and even the walls around it had been modified to match the strength of the door itself. No prying it out of its frame for them. When Megatron gestured Soundwave toward the panel that lined the door, he only shook his helm.

“Entrance: likely alarmed. Attempts to circumvent: may incite ire and resistance. Recommended: A course of action that does not require breaking and entering.”

“This mech hardly owns the place,” Megatron huffed, but he considered the defenses his little militia had put up around their own territory, and shook his helm. Most tresspassers there would likely end up attacked without a much wait if they were to come in without invitation.

“Very well then,” Megatron growled. “We knock. And we wait.”

And they would hope that this mech was amenable to discussing them, rather than bringing the power of his alt-mode to bear without warning.

\--

_Tsssssh._

The sound of something sliding open startled Megatron into turning. The one time he took his optics off of the door—!

He was met with a bright yellow glow, that nearly had him throwing himself into alt mode. He was half a step back before he realized that the light wasn’t actually from a charging cannon, but was from a mech, now standing in the doorway. From what appeared to be the mech’s optic, which was a single glowing ball in the center of a blank faceplate.

Soundwave didn’t seem nearly so startled as Megatron, even when the purple mech standing in the doorway raised one hand—no, a gun-arm—in their direction.

“Designation: Shockwave. Our intentions: only to speak with you, without conflict.”

Despite all of the information Soundwave had given him, the name had never come up, and Megatron couldn’t help a pang of irritation at the sudden discovery, but this was no time or place to comment on it. Later, he would talk to Soundwave about proper briefings. Unless this was revenge for his comment earlier? Perhaps. It didn’t seem like Soundwave.

That yellow optic turned on Soundwave, then drifted toward Megatron, who squared his shoulders and stepped forward to look over this mech in return. He was clearly the gunformer they sought, and his frame was decidedly unconventional. The boxiness of his frame spoke for the unwieldiness of his gun form, and betwee the single optic and the strange shape of the helm in which it was set, it was hard to tell where to look at the mech.

“Your intentions,” the mech repeated, “were a logical conclusion considering your method of approach, and your numbers. And I see now, who you are only supports that conclusion. I am correct in presuming that you are in fact Megatron?” His voice was surprisingly normal, for such an odd mech.

Megatron smiled triumphantly at the recognition. “I am. This mech is Soundwave, my lieutenant, and he is right about what brings us here.”

“You would not be the first, but I am curious to find out how your message will compare to those of the others. You have developed something of a reputation amongst many layers of society,” Shockwave observed. Then, before Megatron could even puff up at the recognition, he stepped back from the doorway and beckoned them along with his non-gun hand. “Come. We can discuss it inside.”

Whatever kind of building Shockwave’s claimed territory had been before it was buried under the ever-growing infrastructure of Cybertron, hardly any hint of it remained now. The place had been almost completely rebuilt, and no traces of the rusted, crumbling structures remained.

It was clearly too much work for a single mech, and Megatron looked around the facility with some trepidation. Soundwave beamed him a picture of a drone, scuttling out of view down one of the vents, but the sight didn’t relieve any of Megatron’s suspicions. Where would a lone gunformer get the resources to fix all of this, or the resources to collect a variety of drones for himself?

“This is quite a… facility you have here,” Megatron observed, watching Shockwave lead them down the corridor. He showed a surprising lack of hesitation about putting his back to them.

“You are curious about how I have accomplished so much in so little time,” Shockwave said, looking toward them with that strange yellow optic of his. “It is a logical question. This location was not chosen randomly. I began to prepare it long before my personal presence here. The drones are the legacy of that, and I continue to use their power to more efficiently finish repairs on this location.

“Query: how did you keep their activities undetected?” Soundwave intoned from behind Megatron. Megatron was sure his second in command as busy taking in all of the information he could about the layout of the laboratory space, but even without the help of his cassettes in collecting the data, he was more than able to spare attention for asking questions.

“I have observed that most of the destitute individuals that inhabit the slums are quick to leave an area where maintenance drones are seen. They are far too wary of being considered part of the refuse themselves, and removed. Thus, it was prudent to send in maintenance drones first, to frighten others away from the area. After that, my work proceeded quickly, until my arrangements to leave Tyger Pax were complete. After that, I put more… prudent methods into place to ensure a lack of trespassers.”

“So you stole them,” Megatron said, and Shockwave nodded. “Without being caught?”

“It is a simple matter to take and reclaim broken drones that have been cast aside for disposal,” Shockwave said. “Particularly as they have not usually outlived their usefulness, despite the evaluation of the maintenance teams.”

“And how exactly did you find out about us, then? And our mission?”

“The news,” Shockwave said, in what Megatron was rather sure was disgust, though the mech’s tone didn’t change at all, “covers current events rather sensationally. However, there is a core of truth to some of these sources, if it can be properly mined for information, as long as one knows how to look. Furthermore, a military operation is a good place to discover the facts, rather than the story, as long as one’s audial receptors are in the right place.”

“So you heard what the military has to say about me, and thought it made me worth hearing out?” Megatron asked. Shockwave merely nodded, apparently unphased by Megatron’s skepticism.

“An assault rifle going rogue is a topic of interest. Gathering facts was of paramount importance, as my own departure from the military would surely put me in contact with you. Your suspicions are understandable, but know this: It is only sensible that I should seek to leave an organization too strict to allow me to pursue the knowledge that I seek to acquire. I operate on logic. It would not be practical to choose any other path.”

This was when Shockwave turned toward him, his single optic intent. Megatron stared back, fighting down the feeling that he was being judged. He and Soundwave were here to evaluate this mech, as strange as he was turning out to be. Megatron couldn’t help but feeling that the rumors about plasma cannons were true, and even understated. But he and Soundwave were here to determine if this mech was a threat, and he refused to be intimidated. Odd or not, a gunformer was still a potential ally.

“Now,” Shockwave said, still staring directly at him. “Let’s discuss your mission.”

__

It was nearly the next cycle before Megatron and Soundwave made it away from Shockwave’s little stronghold. They were largely silent as they made their way back through the twists and turns of the tunnel, moving as quickly as safety would allow before finally retreating to their own secured corner of the underground. A few nods from Megatron dismissed his troops to other parts of the base, before he beckoned Soundwave into the little room that had turned into his makeshift office.

“Well?” Megatron asked, as he turned toward Soundwave. He remained standing as Megatron settled into his chair, which creaked ominously as he did. “You didn’t detect any sort of monitoring equipment, did you?”

“Negative.” Soundwave actually hesitated, which was unusual to see from him. “Shockwave’s intentions: unclear,” he said eventually.

“Unclear?” Megatron raised his optic ridges. “That’s quite an unusual response from you, Soundwave.”

“Shockwave: unusual,” Soundwave insisted. His visor was turned toward Megatron, and there was an edge to his voice under the vocal modulations. Interesting, Megatron thought, how despite Soundwave’s layers of masks, he was still easier to read than Shockwave. “His assessment: accurate. Logic is what drives him.”

Megatron snorted. “That’s ridiculous. Anything can be logical, if you look at it the right way. Just look at the way the military system treats gunformers in the first place. It could be just as _logical_ to continue to submit to their authority.”

Soundwave’s only answer was a silent shrug, and Megatron huffed and leaned back in his chair, propping his helm up on his hand. “Whatever _is_ driving him, he does seem inclined to sympathize with us, even if he doesn’t want to join. We can use that to our advantage. We’ll keep a close watch on him, for now, but I believe for the moment we can leave him be.”

\--

It was Shockwave who approached them first, after their initial meeting. It wasn’t direct—rather, he sent one of his drones to the edge of their territory, with a message.

Lucky for them that the patrollers who had caught it there had been Frenzy and Rumble. They might have been inclined to destroy it without a second thought and report later, but Soundwave was able to waylay their intentions and get the message first.

And it was a puzzling message. Megatron found himself once again leaning back in his chair in his “office” as he considered it. Soundwave, who had initially analyzed the message, was not present for once, and Megatron was left with the damn thing.

An offer of weapons was… well, suspect, to say the least. An offer of _guns_ was begging them to walk into a trap, especially as a first offer. Gunformers were the most regulated, but non-sentient weaponry was extremely limited, and in the underground those who had firearms, no matter how old and patched-together, coveted them. It wasn’t just obtaining them that was difficult. Few mechs had the resources to remove the trackers or scramble the ID readers that locked the firing mechanism unless being handled by a police or military mech.

Shockwave’s offer would be enough to arm Megatron’s entire forces, if it was true.

Megatron grimaced. It was an offer that was too good to be true, and yet impossible to ignore. Clearly Shockwave meant to force the issue one way or another, to make them decide whether they would work with him or not.

But arming themselves was the first step to their revolution. As dangerous an offer as it was, Megatron could not simply turn it aside.

He pushed himself up out of his chair and strode off. It was time to find Soundwave.

\--

Megatron had been unwilling to invite Shockwave into their compound, and similarly unwilling to go into Shockwave’s in turn. Instead, they had decided on a neutral location, somewhere between their territories, as close to aboveground as it was safe to be for rebels and escapees like them.

The area they’d chosen had once been the main thoroughfare of a shopping center, and was one of the larger spaces that could be found. It occasionally turned into a gathering place for the unfortunate mechs that lived in the ruins, or a black market, but there were none of them today. The activity of Megatron’s troops had driven them off.

There was no ambush, no sirens. No sudden shot piercing through plating or knocking them down. Only Shockwave, watching them as he approached with no hint of concern.

“Ah,” he said, evidently pleased despite the utter lack of inflection in his voice. “You made it. Now, shall we discuss terms?”

Megatron crossed his arms and stared down the mech. “Before we do anything, you are going to tell us where, and how, you got these weapons,” Megatron growled. “You don’t expect me to believe that you and your drones could simply conjure up enough weapons for thirty mechs, do you?”

Shockwave’s optic blinked. “You misunderstand,” he said. “I have not stolen the weapons. I will be making them.”

“Making them?” Megatron demanded, stepping toward Shockwave. “Are you honestly claiming you can do such a thing? Where would you get the materials? How would you make them?”

“Armament technology is simple enough, when studied properly,” Shockwave said blandly. “And the materials are one such thing we will have to discuss. I do have a stockpile of appropriate supplies, but they will not last forever. However, in exchange for you and your mechs retrieving more materials for me, I can not only build you unique weaponry, I can make it an integrated part of your frames. Wired in—not something that can be stolen, and only able to be disabled if your frames as a whole are incapacitated.”

Shockwave’s hand moved toward his subspace. Megatron transformed into Soundwave’s hand without thinking, as his lieutenant caught him and aimed him directly at Shockwave. “Don’t think about it,” Megatron warned him.

Shockwave paused, then withdrew his hand again. “Ah. Of course. I should have predicted.” He shook his helm. “I have brought a prototype for your inspection. If you would allow me to display it?”

Soundwave didn’t lower Megatron’s barrel. Megatron considered Shockwave. “Do it,” he barked. “Don’t make any sudden moves, or I’ll shoot you.”

“A quite unnecessary threat, I assure you,” Shockwave said, but his movements were nevertheless slow as he reached into his subspace again, then withdrew what looked like a cylinder.

“I designed this with Soundwave in mind,” Shockwave said, turning the device in his hand. “It seemed logical that you would bring him along to this meeting. This is a multi-barrel automatic cannon, meant to fire energized projectile rounds. Once installed, the chambers can be adjusted to accommodate multiple varieties of ammunition, depending on what is available, and what degree of energization is preferred. With your permission, I would install it. It may require some adjustments, of course. I created this without access to the mech.”

Megatron transformed again, tumbling out of Soundwave’s hand, who let him go automatically. That accomplished, he stepped forward to reach out and take the device out of Shockwave’s hand. “What is this?” he demanded, looking over the weapon. There was a hinge at the back and a cuff, clearly meant to turn it into some sort of shoulder mount. It looked like no cannon design he could remember seeing before, and there were no identifying marks on it whatsoever, not even signs of a removed ID scanner.

“I did not base it off of any existing weaponry. As I said, I designed it myself.” Shockwave gestured toward the weapon. “If you are to succeed, you must have superior armaments to aid your tactics. This is what I propose supplying.”

“Soundwave?” Megatron asked, holding the gun out to his lieutenant.

Soundwave took it, looking it over in a way that Megatron knew meant he was scanning it for bugs. Then he looked the cannon over again, more slowly this time, and Megatron had to prevent himself from huffing in impatience. It wouldn’t do anything more than rush Soundwave’s analysis.

Finally, Soundwave looked up again. “Proposal: acceptable,” he told Megatron, before turning toward Shockwave. “Installation: possible here?”

“Soundwave?” Megatron asked, frowning. Soundwave occasionally made sudden strong decisions like this, but this one as still rather abrupt, and risky in Megatron’s opinion.

“Weapon: needs testing,” Soundwave told him. His visor easily met Megatron’s optics, and he gave a subtle nod. Whatever had troubled him about an assessment of Shockwave last time, it was apparently less detrimental this time around. “Prototype: currently available. There is no reason to delay further.”

“Exactly so,” Shockwave said, evidently pleased. “We’ll have to return to my lab for the installation. I have an area set aside where you can test it once that is complete. If you’ll come with me,” he said, and started moving along without even waiting for them to follow.

Megatron huffed, and exchanged a look with Soundwave, but the cassette carrier simply gave a subtle shrug and followed after Shockwave, leaving Megatron to bring up the rear.

\--

Shockwave’s drones had not been idle since the last time they had visited. The compound was even closer to being complete now, and though they were subtle, Megaton could see signs that the defenses had been shored up as well. He had no doubt that if they went through with the deal, some of the materials they got for Shockwave would be going into this place, instead of just for making weapons. Then again, if he was working for them, the added security would be useful. If the new weapons helped his group enough, Megatron might even be able to spare some of them to patrol Shockwave’s lab as well, though he couldn’t imagine it going over too well with some of them. Even if Shockwave would be helping them, he was still eccentric and difficult to deal with.

The part of the lab that Shockwave led them to this time was further in than they’d been before, and it was even equipped with an array of tools, though even to Megatron’s untrained optics they seemed sparse.

“Sit over there,” Shockwave ordered, beckoning Soundwave over to a low bench. Soundwave obeyed, but only after releasing all of his cassettes from his chest. They dispersed around the room, perching on surfaces here and there and watching Shockwave with sharp optics. It garnered the first real reaction that Megatron had seen from the mech, a little start as one of the birds (Laserbeak, Megatron could at least remember that one) landed on the counter where he was sitting, then a quick glance toward Soundwave. Megatron couldn’t hide his smirk, though he couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed when the mech didn’t go ahead and comment on the logic, or illogic, of such a move.

“This will require attaching the weapon to your frame, wiring it into your control system, and giving you a program to manipulate it,” Shockwave explained, as he finally turned back toward Soundwave. “Is that acceptable?”

“Proposal: acceptable,” Soundwave agreed, turning to look at Shockwave as the mech set down his tools and the cannon.

“Then let us begin,” Shockwave said with a nod. “First I will be removing your shoulder armor.”

Things went quiet for a time, as Shockwave focused on attaching the gun to Soundwave, with only the occasional instruction. Even Soundwave’s cassettes were quiet, as they watched Shockwave’s every move.

Megatron himself watched the slow, deliberate way Shockwave set about creating the modifications with some interest. He seemed adept at using his gun-hand to prop and hold pieces as he used his other hand to connect wires or screw in components. The work went efficiently, and Soundwave showed no discomfort despite the presence of a weapon right next to his neck cabling.

Despite that, there were some times when Shockwave’s hand trembled ever so slightly, or he had to pause to re-grasp a tool he was using.

“Who does your maintenance?”

Shockwave paused in the process of screwing something into Soundwave’s shoulder, and turned back toward Megatron. “I see to it myself,” he answered. “The practical uses of drones do not extend to their abilities to work on mechs.”

“I’m sure.” Especially not around delicate mechanisms like their firing systems. Were the answer from anyone else, Megatron might have been satisfied, but he could see the slight scuffs, the wear. He couldn’t hear any troubling sounds from Shockwave as he moved, but he didn’t expect that from a mechanism like Shockwave. Still… he looked to the mech’s gun hand. It couldn’t have been easy to complete all of the maintenance that needed to be done in root mode like that, and taking care of his gun form would be entirely impossible.

“We have a medic of sorts, who sees to our maintenance,” Megatron said. “If this deal works out, I don’t see why we couldn’t offer their services to you as well.” Hook would likely complain, but there was little that Hook didn’t complain about, and it could well be worth it for their own personal weaponsmith.

“Then I shall consider it,” Shockwave said with a nod. “However, that remains to be seen. Soundwave, the cannon is installed. All you should need to do now is download this control scheme and integrate it into your motor controls.”

Soundwave took the chip held out to him, and after another brief scan, slotted it into the port on his arm. There was another long pause, broken by one of the cassettes.

“Boss?” both of the humanoid twins asked, completely ignoring Shockwave as they ran over to Soundwave, who nodded to them.

“Systems optimal,” he told them. “Patch: integrated with minor problems. Some modifications: necessary,” he told Shockwave, “but installation successful afterward.”

“So you are capable of making the modifications yourself? Good,” Shockwave commented with a nod. “I shall have to ask you for those changes later. For now, we shall proceed to the shooting range.”

What Shockwave described as the shooting range was really more of an unfinished section of the lab that Shockwave’s drones had yet to do much more than structural work on, but Shockwave had managed to set up a number of targets around the space that had clearly seen some use already.

“There,” Shockwave said, pointing toward one of the closer targets. “Test it on that.”

And Soundwave turned toward it… and did.

The cassettes that had followed them had flinched at the sudden loud sound of the weapon firing, and the target practically exploding under the onslaught. Soundwave didn’t flinch or jerk back as the weapon sprung into life on his shoulder, but he was quick to power it down again, and turned to look at Megatron again.

Megatron was grinning viciously already, as he looked to Shockwave. “With firepower like that, we could have the entire underground under our control within a decacycle.” He held out a hand toward Shockwave. “You’ve made your point well. Let’s talk.”


End file.
